On the Same
As you pass the Aeolian tomb, stranger, do not say that I, the Mytilenaean poetess, am dead: human hands built this, and such works of men disappear into sweet oblivion; but if you judge me by the divine Muses, from each of whom I set a flower beside my nine, you will know that I escaped the gloom of Hades, and that no day will ever dawn that…